


Jester, Mistress of the Freezing Hands

by bboiseux



Series: Critical Role Campaign 2 [13]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Cold Hands, Fluff, Gen, Pranks, Unexpected Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-05-04 21:32:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14602158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bboiseux/pseuds/bboiseux
Summary: Jester has cold hands.  Clearly, this must be a prime source of mischief.From the Prompt:“Mighty Nein to Jester, ‘Your hands are freezing!’ when she deliberately touches them knowing she runs cold.”





	Jester, Mistress of the Freezing Hands

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TwinVax](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwinVax/gifts).



> This was so much fun to write! And I would have never done it without the prompt. Thanks, TwinVax!

Molly was the first to say something.  Jester casually put her hand on his arm and he _leaped_.  “Good lord!  Your hands are freezing.”  He quickly put his hand on her forehead.  “You’re a tiefling for god’s sake, how is this even possible?  Do you have ice in your veins instead of blood?”  He turned back to what he was doing, shaking his head.  “Don’t sneak up on people like that.”

Jester loved how Molly was full of great ideas.

Beau was the easiest, of course.  She slept right across the room.  When it was cold, she huddled under her covers in a tight little ball.  When it was hot, she sprawled out, limbs every which way.  And it was hot now.  Beau was on her belly, the blanket covering about a tenth of her body.  And there was a perfect little foot hanging off the side of the bed.  Jester didn’t even have to sneak (because once Beau was out she was _out_ ), so she stood by the bed, grinning, and then grabbed the foot.  Jester was fairly certain people didn’t magically leap ten feet in the air, but it sure looked like Beau did.  After a stream of inventive curses, Beau settled into: “For fuck’s sake, Jester.  Your hands are cold enough to make my nipples pop off!”

Caleb was easy too (Jester really wanted more of a challenge).  He just sat there, completely absorbed in his books, and she walked up and placed a hand on his neck.  Unfortunately, she hadn’t noticed he was writing, not reading.  The black cloud growing across the page from the spilled inkwell was not as funny as Jester hoped.  “Oh!  I’m sorry, Caleb.” She pulled out a cloth and went to wipe off the page, but Caleb stopped her.  His face was resigned.  “It is okay, liebchen.”  With a few words and motions the ink vanished from the page.  “But be careful sneaking up on people.  Your hands are very cold.”

Nott was difficult.  Every time Jester started to sneak, Nott would glance over her shoulder or start talking to her.  It was disconcerting.  Jester finally had to settle for hiding under the stairs and grabbing Nott’s ankle when she came down in the morning.  The crossbow bolt technically only _almost_ hit Jester, so it worked out okay in the end. Nott didn’t say anything about her cold hands, just squealed “What the fuck, Jester!”

Fjord took more work.  Jester would rest a hand on his arm, his neck, his back, a knee.  Nothing.  One time, he even smiled and took her hand.  They just sat there talking, linked by that little motion, for hours.  Jester found herself confused by how much that meant to her.  Finally, however, she got him.  They were all at a table eating lunch, on a sweltering hot day.  It was so bad, that everyone was in their bottom layers.  The boys and Beau were going topless and everyone was showing their legs.  And there was Fjord, right across from her, deep in conversation and food.  So she slid her foot slowly along his thigh.  He yelped (actually yelped!) and turned a deep brown in the face.  When everyone else had finally gone back to their eating (after a healthy amount of ribbing), Fjord whispered to Jester, “Ah, your feet are freezing.”  Jester pouted, “Perhaps you can help me warm up sometime, Fjord.”  He blushed even deeper.

Yasha was irresistible.  When they were relaxing, she kept her midriff bare.  And the washboard abs and the cut towards her groin and the little dimples in her back just sat there in the open taunting Jester.  So many choices!  She finally decided that Yasha deserved both hands and, sneaking from behind, grabbed her waist.  Yasha didn’t even flinch.  She smiled a thin smile and said, “Hello, my ice queen.”  “Aw,” said Jester, “You noticed.”  Turning, Yasha picked Jester up, swinging her around to set her on a table, so the height difference was not so great.  “Of course I noticed.  I’d have to be pretty dense not to.”  And she leaned down to give Jester the kiss she deserved.

Frumpkin just kept curling up on Jester’s hands like he was doing her a favor.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm taking fic requests! Find the details [at this post on my tumblr](https://bboiseux.tumblr.com/post/173750594440/taking-critical-role-fic-requests-now).
> 
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